


A Ride in the Night

by GreyWinter



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Goodbyes, Mentioned Characters, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 03:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16508474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWinter/pseuds/GreyWinter
Summary: As the gang’s end approaches, Arthur gives a proposition to John.





	A Ride in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess this is technically my first story posted on here. I just finished Red Dead Redemption 2 last night and boy did that hurt. This takes place I guess in chapter 6. If you’ve played it then you may have an idea when this is because Strauss isn’t here. Since I’ve played it now I also know that not all of what I wrote will match to the game, especially with Sadie, but I feel that changing what I wrote would be pointless. 
> 
> I plugged this into a text-to-speech app to help me edit so hopefully there aren’t many mistakes. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

“Get the hell outta here.” 

Arthur’s voice came as a surprise. What was more surprising was the hard shove he delivered. It was with enough force that John, with his lean frame, stumbled. 

The man’s aggression was surprising. Lately, everything about him has been subdued. His personality, actions, aggression. Their recent and past losses were weighing down everyone but it seemed that Arthur was finally getting affected by it. Bags hung under his eyes and more than once John has caught Arthur murmuring in his sleep about Hosea, watching the tent where Hosea slept, and staring at the old picture of him, Dutch, and Hosea. It was understandable, Hosea and Dutch raised him; and now maybe none of the three in the picture can be recognized. 

John once took a closer look at the photo when Arthur was out doing whatever he does. Each of them had a light in their eyes that screamed luck, happiness, and trickery. Arthur had been obviously cleaned up for the picture. In the vest they probably stuffed him into, the beginnings of his broad frame was unmistakable. The mischievous smirk on his face looked nothing like him now. Dutch and Hosea, also younger then, had a proudness to their eyes. 

The look of a proud father, it was. They raised Arthur like he was their own, so he might as well have been. That’s why Arthur rarely got in trouble when he did something wrong. But he also owned up to mistakes and learned how to speak smartly despite the brashness that sometimes lurks beneath the surface. Getting raised by the leaders of the gang no doubt helped him be a mediator between them since he was a mixture of them and himself. So he wasn’t just an attack dog for the gang, he might as well be the first son born into the gang. 

Arthur glared at him. His teal eyes looked discolored in the light. He was shaking ever so slightly and he was sweating, cheeks a light pink, despite the fair temperature of dawn. His skin was pale, too, and the bags under his eyes looked bruised. The colorful orbs stared through John, the redder blood vessels a sickly contrast. They flicked to something behind him then back to John. It was a simple action that John nearly missed. 

“Let’s go for a ride, Marston,” Arthur said, louder. He motioned for the man to follow to the horses. 

They got on their horses and started on the trail out of camp. Bill grunted to them on the way out. 

Arthur didn’t kick his horse to go faster like how he usually rides. He had an air of dreariness to him that made John suspicious. John has seen Arthur ride at night and this wasn’t the same. He was taking them on the trails around camp, not too close to attract attention from outsiders or the gang but not too far so that if something were to happen he couldn’t hear it. 

They stopped in a little clearing along a road. Arthur sighed and slumped in his saddle for a moment. An action that would make anyone appear smaller, except him, apparently. 

“So what did you want to talk about, Arthur?” John finally asked. 

“Like I said in camp. You gotta get the hell outta here,” Arthur murmured. 

“We both know it don’t work like that, Arthur.” 

“Really? It’s like I haven’t been in this gang for more than half of my life. I still ain’t good with the rules yet.” Arthur’s smart mouth was still intact, for now, which was good. However, when he laughed at his own joke, he broke into a nasty coughing fit that sounded wet and left a dribble of blood at the corner of his mouth. “I know it fucking don’t.” 

John watched sadly. The unbreakable and unstoppable legend, Arthur Morgan, has finally met his match; tuberculosis, and he’s losing the battle. 

“But Dutch is becoming unpredictable and creating problems on top’a problems. With Hosea gone, he’s lost his main voice of reason. Anyone talking back makes him think they’ll betray him. Except me but he’s not willing to let me step into Hosea’s old spot.” Arthur paused to clear his throat. He quickly wiped his hand on the inside of his black duster but John saw the blood. “Jack ain’t safe with us no more. So you, him, and Abigail need to leave before you can’t no more.” 

They had to leave. The question was: should they? Dutch would see it as treason. But Abigail would love to leave for a place where Jack can grow up safely. Arthur was potentially proposing they start a new life, leave their outlaw days behind, start a farm like everyone else was hoping. They have an actual chance. 

“But Dutch’s wild spew about loyalty,” John reminded. 

Arthur got them moving again. He either must be feeling decent or he feels safe enough to wander father. His horse, Greymore, wasn’t looking too antsy, she looked like she wanted to run but could wait. She always had a worried look in her eye. Maybe she understands her rider’s limited time. After all, Arthur was taking time to get out each of his four horses to spend more time with them now. 

“Yeah, I’m aware. I’ll deal with him. I’ll deal with him…” 

John stared. “And you?” 

Arthur chuckled darkly. “Me? I’ll stick with Dutch until I can’t. I ain’t got much time left anyway. If he gets us in trouble, I might be released early.” 

“You could come with us,” the other man tried, “live out the rest of your days in peace. I’m sure Jack’d love to have you around.” 

The enforcer waved him off with a hand. It looked like the action was tight and pinched. Like maybe Arthur was hurting in the ribs. 

“As nice as it sounds, I can’t do that to y’all. Dutch will need me, anyways. I don’t have time to turn my life around like you.” 

A life without Arthur sounded… bleak. The man was his own color. He illuminated the camp in an odd way whenever he was around, but it was nice. Sure, he’s threatened to kill multiple members of the gang or leave them captured if they got in trouble, John included, but he was loyal in the end. He’d go without meals to make sure others ate and would be out for days only hunting and collecting supplies for the gang. 

When Arthur returned from his capture by the O'Driscolls, and he had a fever for days and tried to escape camp once, John got a clear look at the man when Miss Grimshaw and Tilly cleaned him up. He was still broad but he lost a lot of weight, especially compared to what he had in the mountains. He had muscle but his ribs and hips were obvious. Up in the Grizzlies, and even before, Dutch and Hosea were pushing his normal meals to keep him at his peak. Guess all this running made them, including Arthur, forget that there had to be breaks to eat. Dutch and Hosea were usually in camp so they were reminded by Pearson. Arthur was everywhere, so he didn’t get that reminder. Who knows how tuberculosis is wracking his body even though he has been trying to eat most of his meals. 

“So when he lashes out at you because we left, what will you do?” John demanded. 

“Dutch wouldn’t.” 

“Just like you said he wouldn’t kill Molly.” 

Arthur froze. One of his hands drifted from the reins to his hip. He gave John a look like he was offended but quickly looked away. To finish off his strange actions, he ran a hand through his recently-cut hair and sighed. 

Sore subject, but John had to make sure his point was made. Arthur Morgan has been questioning Dutch recently, and with good intentions. While John was locked up, something in Arthur turned softer and Dutch turned sharper. It would make the perfect Dutch and Hosea pair again but Dutch was proving to be more than Arthur can handle. And then the gang taking sides was making everything worse. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t know. I’m going to talk to everyone I think would be willing the leave. Javier and Bill seem to be taking Dutch’s side, Micah I ain’t gonna deal with, and I fear Sadie has a taste now and won’t want to leave, but she might, for me. Swanson already left so that just leaves your family, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Uncle, Charles, and Pearson, who I believe will all leave,” Arthur said. “I don’t know how willing Miss Grimshaw and Karen are to leave but I can still try.” 

Said the man who once followed orders blindly. Yet, now he was trying to get people out so more harm doesn’t befall on them. If Hosea was alive then maybe they wouldn’t be pushed to this. Although Dutch wouldn’t have listened because whatever happened in his head already caused him not to listen to reason. Maybe Dutch should listen because if he had listened more then Hosea and Lenny would be alive. Hell, maybe even Kieran would still be with them if he listened! 

“Marston,” Arthur growled. 

“Morgan,” John snapped in return. He shook his head to clear his anger then sighed. “Sorry.” 

Arthur observed him for a moment before looking back at the road. “I’m not orderin’ you to leave, I just hope you see the consequences if you don’t.” 

“Yeah, I—I know, Arthur.” 

The pattering of the horses’ hooves on the dirt roads was calming but it was doing nothing to ease John’s speeding heart nor his sweating hands. He wasn’t on his deathbed but he could feel the timer for something upcoming. Hopefully it wasn’t anyone’s death, hopefully it’s just when it’s time for his family to part with the gang.

Out of the corner of his eye, John noticed Arthur take a biscuit from his satchel and eat it. He wasn’t taking delicate bites but they were small and he seemed to be chewing slowly. It was funny, considering how he usually scarfs his meals down. Although that turned to not being funny anymore because he scarfs his meals down because he misses meals. 

“I’m gonna miss you, you know,” John murmured. 

Arthur looked at him again. “Does that mean you’ll leave?” 

John stared back at those tired, teal eyes. Many a things they have seen and will never share. They were the eyes of an experienced man, of the man who maybe had regrets and has been trying to make peace with what he can. They were the eyes of Arthur Morgan, the ruthless outlaw and enforcer with a secret soft side that only the gang and people he sometimes help have seen. These were the eyes of someone who John would follow down nearly any path, despite their differences in the past. Eyes he may never see again if he leaves. 

But here Arthur was, giving John, and potentially others of the gang, a chance to turn their lives around. A chance for a new beginning. With Arthur’s help, John can get Abigail and Jack out of the gang to someplace safe. Despite facing possible backlash, Arthur would do it. 

Arthur, normally an impatient person, waited. His lips were slack, forming a pouting frown. His skin was pale and sweaty from sickness. Dried blood rested in the corner of his lips. Emotion shone in his eyes; thirst for rest, love, understanding, and freedom. This was the same man who pulled a gun on John when they first met and tackled him clean off his horse a day later. The same man who willingly took a bullet for him and another time let a dog attack him instead. 

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit that I didn’t think I was going to like Arthur when I saw the commercials. I was definitely excited for the game, I just didn’t know how I’d feel about him. Turns out I love him to death.


End file.
